Reflex Arc
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: Why didn't Ziva react sooner when Hoffman took her hostage? Ziva POV piece, Recoil addition.


Disclaimer: NCIS is the property of non-ovine folk.

Spoilers: _Recoil_.

Summary: Why _did_ Ziva take so long to react when Hoffman pulled the gun on her? Missing/extended/POV scene. Credit to tweeter for the idea.

* * *

"Drive."

Ziva stiffened her arms and gripped the wheel as Hoffman pressed the muzzle of his gun just under and behind her right ear. It had been her reaction to McGee's phone call that had set him off, but it had taken her completely off guard. What could Tony have possibly discovered so quickly at Hoffman's house? Their timetable had been set to give him at least an hour to look for evidence. If anything, she'd been anticipating the opposite – a call asking for Cynthia that meant she had to delay Hoffman from going home for at least ten minutes.

No. It wasn't Tony's fault for being competent or McGee's for delivering the abort code instead of the stall code; it was hers for letting her surprise show. She thought she'd done a pretty good job recovering with the old boyfriend story, but Hoffman had been too edgy. She should have been more aware of that, too.

He increased the pressure of the gun against her skin, the metal no longer cold after absorbing her body heat – or perhaps she had just become accustomed to the feel of it. Strange how she could be desensitized to a gun barrel on her neck but not a wedding ring on her finger… She had been acutely aware of that bizarre sensation since putting on the ostentatious diamond Abby had dug out of the evidence locker for the occasion. She couldn't imagine anyone getting used to such an unwieldy thing. _What kind of woman wants one of these?_

She twitched when the force of the gun against the side of her head suddenly increased. "Did you hear me? I said take the next left."

"Where are we going, Andy?"

"What, is the car bugged so your buddies can find us? Just turn here and shut up."

She nodded and made the left. She thought she saw a familiar blue car in the rearview a few cars back, but the glimpse was too fleeting for her to be sure. Hoffman pointed instead of saying his next few directions aloud. A dead end produced his next oral command. "Stop."

She brought the car to a smooth rather than a jerking halt. A sudden stop could have thrown him far enough off balance for her to make a grab for the gun, but there was no need to risk such an uncertain ploy when backup was on the way.

"Take out the keys and give them to me. And your phone." She complied and he dropped both in the foot well on his side. "Now…keep your hands on the steering wheel as you get out of the car and keep them there until I tell you otherwise. If you let go, I will blow your head off."

"I…" Her eyes flicked momentarily to the mirror, but there was nothing. "I need to undo my seatbelt."

"No. Keep your hands up." As he reached across her body to press the release button, she was again tempted to act. Would he be able to pull the trigger before she'd snapped his neck? He wasn't even looking at her so…maybe. Or he could tense reflexively when she did it and pull the trigger anyway. Shot by a dead man. Not an option. She maneuvered her lower body out of the car while leaning forward to maintain her grip on the wheel.

Hoffman kept his weapon trained on her as he got out and circled around to her side of the car. "Good. You keep listening and this might all work out. Now I want you to stand up slowly, and keep your hands in the air." He found a new place on her neck to shove the gun muzzle. A shot there and her brain would be cut off from the rest of her body. Painless, but only because there was no possible evidence to the contrary. She strained to hear a car approaching, but there was nothing. Hoffman nudged her toward the obviously abandoned warehouse looming in front of her. "Through that door."

The room they entered was open. She couldn't see many angles that wouldn't be clear from the door. This could be an advantage – the building would muffle the sound of a motor. Gibbs could walk in and take Hoffman down before he knew anyone was even there. He allowed her to get a step or two away from the gun before ordering her to stop. "You're a cop, aren't you?"

She turned slowly until she was facing him; more importantly, she was also facing the door. The moment Gibbs appeared, he would give her a signal and she would duck right as he fired. She maintained her position by drawing Hoffman into a conversation as best she could, but it didn't last long. "Walk."

She turned her back to the door again. _Where the hell are they?_ No, it was all right. Gibbs would still have a clean shot at Hoffman. He was concentrating on her, facing the wrong direction. She took unhurried steps, the distance to the wall getting disconcertingly shorter with each. She stopped when she reached the entrance of a gated room. "Get in there."

She hesitated. _Gibbs is going to be here. It will be just like it always is when Tony says the wrong thing or Abby has a breakthrough. Phoof. Gibbs appears. And…_

The click behind her was too familiar and far too close.

_Shit_.

Time slowed as she whirled on Hoffman and his gun went off. The sudden pain in her head automatically interrupted every inhibition and rational thought she had. She was on the outside looking in until she felt the comforting weight of his gun in her hand.

She was pushing his body off her when Gibbs shouted her name. Everything was a jumble. Why were they…what was…who? She accepted his assistance to stand. "You all right?"

She nodded, wishing that she had simply answered instead when the hair covering her open wound stuck and pulled and… She took a step away as Gibbs leaned over to confer with McGee for a moment. "I waited too long. I shouldn't have waited. Why would I do that?"

He grabbed her upper arm and squeezed gently, giving her the odd feeling that he was the only thing holding her up. "You must have had a good reason."

"I…" She tried hard to think of a reason she hadn't allowed her body to take over the moment it felt a possible way out of danger, as had happened so many times before in life-threatening situations. "I…don't know."


End file.
